Sunday, June 19, 2016

in the early hours of fathers day

"...it's late at night and neither one of us are sleeping..." - "Just Take My Heart" by Mr. Big, 1991

Happy Father's Day and look, I still have a blog.

Ironic enough that I just spent the first hour or so of this, my 5th Father's Day (It's the 6th, if you count the pregnancy, which The Lovely Steph Leann does not, but I still want to give credence), getting my crying kid to go back to sleep.

The Lovely Steph Leann left earlier today to head to Salt Lake City for a Young Living convention, not to return until after next weekend... so that's a whole lot of Campbell & Daddy time between now and then.  (if you are one of those snakes who like to rob people when they think the home will be empty, just know I work from home, so joke's on you, loser).

Aunt Becky is scheduled to come into town for half of the week, but with her age and lack of mobility, that's really just an extra eye on the little guy while I get shower at a decent hour.  Hashtag unnecessary rhymes.

The afternoon has been fine... Campbell & I both had lunch, and while he played, I watched a movie ("The Death of Superman Lives", an excellent documentary on the ill fated attempt at a Superman revival in 1999 starring Nicholas Cage.  Yes, that Nic Cage).  In the early afternoon, he and I visited Let's Play, a local indoor play area, and then ran some errands to Wal-Mart and dinner.  He was pretty beat, which was according to plan, but I made him hold out until after I finished the documentary I was watching in the evening (Part 4 of the also excellent ESPN 30 for 30 film "OJ: Made in America"), and by 8ish, he was dead to the world.

For those of you who are reading this and are unfamiliar with my 4 year old, he's on the spectrum.  Most of his 4 years have been spent being rocked to sleep, so I thought I'd turn on some super daddy skillz tonight and after his bath, after putting on his pajamas, instead of rocking him, I just laid down with him in the bed.  It took him a little while to sleep, but sleep finally came... out like a little light.

I came downstairs, then knocked out the final part, Part 5, of the OJ doc, then cleaned up the kitchen a little bit... the usual, with dishes, getting food ready for tomorrow, dishes, spraying and wiping down counters and of course, dishes. All of this while starting on the final 8 hours of the 21 hour audiobook "Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows" (it's a race to the finish now, as I've gone through the other 6 books in the last few months, and their length is really slowing my pace to finish 43 books this year... it's mid-June and Deathly Hallows is only Book 16! Where was I?  Oh yes...)

The kitchen cleaned, I sat down in front of the laptop to open it for the very first time today and was just making a slight change on a Disney trip for a family (if you didn't know about Campbell, you probably didn't know I plan Disney trips for a living. #ShamelessPlug), and was listening intently as Harry was questioning Mr. Ollivander, the wandmaker, about the Elder Wand when... I heard crying.

I paused the iPod, left the laptop and everything on and ran upstairs.  There was Campbell, sitting up in bed, in pitch dark... the diffuser I had going earlier had gone out, so I fumbled for the small bathroom light to turn on.  I flipped the switch, and he just looked up at me with a pitiful look... sniffling, he reached out to me.

I got on the bed with him, stroked his hair, laid next to him and let him cry for a minute. What about, I have no idea.  See, Campbell can't tell us these things yet. He has no way of vocalizing if things hurt, if he's scared, if he doesn't feel good... all we can do is just comfort and make guesses.

I asked if he had to "go potty", and his body language said that while that wasn't making him cry, he could probably go about now.  We went to the bathroom, he went, and we came back to the bed.  I re-set the diffuser so it's light could replace the bathroom light, and could also fill the air with some oil that may help him if he was congested.  Then I lay back beside him.

And he cried and cried.  No tears, so I suppose it could be night terrors, or it could be hurting somewhere... or he could just decide that it was time to cry, right now.  I lay there with him as he cried and sometime screamed in my ear. I had some patience, but regrettably, it was wearing a little thin -- The Lovely Steph Leann is always so much better at this than I am. And she's gone.  I never resent her trips unless this happens, then I wish she'd never leave.

When I've rocked Campbell to sleep before, I usually will pray out loud for him.  I  pray for his health, I pray that he will find Christ in His timing, I pray for his development and I always pray that Campbell will begin talking -- not just the words that he can say here and there, or repeat back when we ask him to say something, but to actually communication.

This time, however, my prayers were a little more forceful. I challenged God. I asked God "Why won't you help him?  I'm not asking you to make him a typical child, or to suddenly increase his development, but You know You could snap your fingers and make him talk. You know You could blink Your eyes and he'd be asleep, without any pain he might feel right now.

God, I have a kid who can't even tell me and his mom that he loves us. I can't play LEGOs with him, I can't enjoy milk and Oreos with him, I can't take him to see Finding Dory, when I'm at Let's Play, I have to watch him even closer than most parents watch their kids because he doesn't understand whats appropriate around other kids... why won't You help him?  Why do You refuse to?!"

It's questions I think I've struggled with subconsciously for a while.  Just... why.  Keep the autism, that's fine, that's who he is and who God made him to be.  But just fix that part.  That talking part. Please.

It was at this moment I noticed Campbell was quiet. He had nestled into my left arm, which was holding him, with his head on my shoulder.  Even in the dim light, I could see Campbell's eyes open. Big, wonderment-filled eyes.  They looked around before finally looking straight into mine.  Campbell and I laid there, eyes locked for probably no more than 30 seconds, but it was enough.

And in those eyes, God spoke to me.

He said, "d$... your question to me is 'Why won't I help him?', but what you are really asking is... 'Why won't I help YOU?' He knows nothing of LEGOs and Oreos and movie theaters. These are all things YOU wish to experience with him, for him.  These are not bad things... in fact, they are wonderful things. But these are not things for the two of you to experience.  You will have your own experiences that other fathers and their children will know nothing about. Because this is the plan I have for him. And for you."

As I finished this blog post, I ran back up to take this pic... and he was in
the exact same spot that I left him. Cute little guy, ain't he.
And it made sense. It wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it did make sense.  And yes, selfishly, I want those things. But I learned many years ago -- though I still struggle with it constantly -- to not mourn what I'll be missing with Campbell, but to celebrate what I'll be getting, what me and The Lovely Steph Leann will have in our son.

Well... I'd love to tell you that Campbell went right on to sleep... but he didn't.  He rolled over, cried some more, jerked his whole body so that he essentially butt-punched me in the stomach, accidentally (I think) smacked me in the face, and cried a little more.  But finally... finally, he closed his eyes for the final time tonight (I hope) and was gone.

Which allowed me to come down here and shut everything down... allowed me to jot down my thoughts here before I did.  I've this is my 4th re-read of the Harry Potter series, so I know that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Griphook are about to take on Gringotts (#NerdAlert) so no need to continue that tonight.

Happy Father's Day to you fathers out there. Take a bow.  And to those who are mourning the loss of their own father, I grieve with you, as the man who raised me passed 16 years ago.  And to those fathers who have lost loved ones, I nod to you as well.

Dads... remember... this day is about you. But it's always about them.  And always will be.

(ps... because it's now 207a, my usual terrible lyrical style was made even more terrible, so please excuse the bad grammar, misspelled words and lack of proper punctuation)

Friday, March 18, 2016

american idol's last hurrah

I'm not sure that anyone but myself, The Lovely Steph Leann and our friend Cindy Jo is actually watching American Idol this season.  Heck, I stopped doing Idol blogs years ago, even before the dumpster fire that was the Mariah Carey/Nicki Minaj season...

SIDEBAR -- I'm proud to say I've been alive for the entire five or six years that Nicki Minaj has even been a thing, and I'm proud to say I haven't heard more than five seconds of any Minaj song.  I know she has one called "Starship" or "Spaceship" or something, but I only know it because the title appears on my screen on SiriusXM, but I'm quick to turn it.  To be fair, she does add a little flair to the Jessie J/Ariana Grande song "Bang Bang" which I want to publicly denounce, but deep down in the iPod of my heart, it sits next to "Party in the USA" as "My Jams" 

OTHER SIDEBAR -- I don't know a lot about Jessie J, other than she sorta looks like a poor man's Idina Menzel.  And honestly, I'm trying not to like Ariana Grande because she's really flaky, but darn it if I actually kinda like her.  Let's move on.

Where was I?  Oh yeah...

Anyway, we are rocketing towards the finale like a Meat Loaf album title (wait for it) and most unexpectedly.  The Lovely Steph Leann and I have had more than one conversation about how Idol has been a mainstay for Fox for a decade and a half, making it a bajillionty dollars, and yet, it's as if the execs at Fox said "Get it done and over as quick as possible."

So much so that we are chunking two at a time in the past few weeks, not even a separate results show, and seriously, I freakin' miss the Silver Stools of Doom that the Bottom Three had to sit on to await their fate!

I figured they would have at least a full Top Ten, even after that quick slashing of the Top 24... but nope. Knocking two out, then two more, then another, all under the guise of "Judge's Save", giving the power to Harry Connick Jr, Jennifer Lopez & keith urban to pick the best of the Bottom 3 to remain.

Anyway, tonight's show was the Final Six, soon to be a Final Five, as the judges use the "last Judge Save".  I didn't even know we were calling it that.

Who do we have?  Sonika Vaid, with her old school Demi Lovato teeth gap... Tristan McIntosh who, for the life of both myself and The Lovely Steph Leann, we cannot figure out how she made it this far... Mackenzie Bourg, who strikes me as very toothy... Dalton Rapattoni, the token eyeliner-wearing guy on the show... Trent Harmon, who is The Lovely Steph's Leann's favorite and seemingly a pretty cool guy... and La'Porsha, the big haired prohibitive favorite who can not just sing, but SAANG.

Here are my thoughts on tonight's episode...

First... Harry made some comment about how this is the final night to use the save, and said something about how everyone is bringing it tonight because they haven't used it yet... but actually, when he said it, the Judge's Save had been used about 10 minutes prior to save Sonika.  This show IS live, right?  Are they pulling a Seacrusty Fakery on us?

Second... Olivia Rox should still be here.  Avalon shouldn't have lasted this long, just like Tristan.

Third... If Idol were to continue, La'Porsha's version of Mary J. Blige's "No More Drama" would go down in A.I. folklore as one of those seminal moments on the show, a la "Summertime" by Fantasia or David Cook's version of "Hello" or Carrie Underwood's "Alone"... something you remember for years to come.

Fourth... While it's never a wrong time to have the performance of your season, like MacKenzie did tonight, it's not quite as magical when you blow everyone away with a tender version of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" only to have everyone be blowered awayer more when La'Porsha comes up.

Fifth... This is perhaps the first season that I could see anyone in the Top Four actually winning and being successful (which is a relative term for Idol, because though we have Kelly, Carrie, Daughtry and a few others, we also have DeWyze and Bowersox and many more forgotten names).  I say four because Sonika will likely be dropped next week.  It's time.

Sixth... Do you mean to tell me that Idol listened to the fans and American actually chose "Wild World" by Cat Stevens?  I'd almost guarantee that 88.4% of the Idol audience had no idea who sang "Wild World", and probably 67.9% of that group may not even know who Cat Stevens is.  I smell shenanigans.

Seventh... Its a joy to watch J-Lo, Harry and keith do their thing, because you can tell they truly are having a great time.  People complain that since Simon left, it's gone downhill, but I am one of those people who didn't watch for the disasters, I watched for the talents.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed William Hung and "Pants on the Ground" like anyone else, but I have really reveled in watching the real artists emerge (long live Julia DeMato!), and our three judges feel the same.

Eighth... While not in this episode, go out and find Kelly Clarkson's version of "Piece by Piece" from a few weeks ago, her new song.  Holy crap.  It might be the best performance Kelly has ever pulled off.



Ninth... Speaking of returning Idols, what is Adam Lambert doing that he can't take 2 hours and sit at the table and judge?  Or work with the Idols a little?  Seriously... Kelly Clarkson is like forever pregnant, but sat right down and did a great job helping the Idols, and THEN performed.  I give a pass to Carrie Underwood but Adam Lambert?  Sit yo' butt down and talk to these kids.

Tenth... I'll admit, I like Tristan, but I agree with Harry when he says that she's uber talented, but just not ready for this.  Which is annoying, because he was one of the three people that put her into this Top Ten limelight, but there it is.  She sang a Martina McBride song for the 2nd week in a row, and while last week's "Broken Wing" saved her bacon (she did it justice), this week she did a piano ballady version of "Independence Day".  That's not a song you can make into a ballad, or at least not easily.  And while she sang okay, the song lost its umph with her version.

Last point... Tristan and Sonika were in the Bottom Two, and had to sing to try and earn the Judge's Save.  While Tristan did the aforementioned "Independence Day", Sonika chose to sing, "Demi Lovato's 'Let It Go'"

This led to a deep chat between myself and The Lovely Steph  Leann, because I was somewhat bugged by the fact that it was "Demi's 'Let It Go'"  I immediately piped up with "That's Idina, not Demi.  What the heck?"

The Lovely Steph Leann:  Yeah, but Demi did it
Me: No, Demi did a version of it.  That's Idina Menzel's song.
The Lovely Steph Leann:  Yeah, but Sonika is doing Demi's version of the song
Me: Then Seacrest should say that she's doing Demi's version of an Idina song.
The Lovely Steph  Leann: It's just like when the Carpenter's did "Ticket to Ride".  You don't say they did the Beatles "Ticket to Ride", they did their own version of it.
Me: (Pause): Yeah, but still.

And as usual, she's right.  Still Idina's song.




Sunday, January 31, 2016

Favorite Ten Books of 2015

Well, hi.

I won't blither on about not writing or blogging or how I miss it and so on and so on... done that already.  You can even read about that here.

The important thing is, here I am!

So, now that the first month of the year is over, I thought before the clock strikes midnight and I turn into a pumpkin... or at least, pumpkiner... I thought it best to get something in.  See that link filled side bar over there ----- >  ?  Well, if you miss a month, then a month doesn't show up because there's nothing there... and I really don't want to not have January 2016 there.

To my point... people who know me know I'm an Audible.com junkie.  I'm so super busy right now the only way I can possibly "read" is by listening to audiobooks... I can listen while I drive, while I work around the house and sometimes as I sit and work on Magic on a Dollar fun Disney travel stuff...

You should read this book.  Okay, I should read this book, and I will
when I can. Its not on audio, so it will take some time.
My goal in 2013 was 25 books, and I did 27.  In 2014, I went up to 35, and knocked out 37.  And last year, I had a goal of 40, and got right to 40... I would have gotten a few more, but I waited the last two weeks of the year to sit down with my dear friend Kinda Wilson's new book "The Echo Factor", but was unable to find the time.  So sitting at 39 books, I panicked and sorta did a cheap move by going through a 90 minute book (I have done podcast episodes longer than that...) called "20,000 Days" by Robert Smith.  It was all about how we need to make the most of every day... and it was okay.  If you really want a book covering that topic, read my favorite book of 2014, "Moment Maker" by Carlos Whittaker.  That will change your life.

Back to the topic at hand.  This year, my goal is 43 books.  I felt 45 was just a little too much, and since I upped my previous goal by 3, I did the same for 2016.  At this writing, I just finished my 5th book of the year.

And don't even ask me about my movie goal... you will literally think I do nothing but listen to audiobooks and watch movies.  Okay, you asked, my goal is 150 new-to-me movies, and I'm currently at 20.  On pace for 240 films.  No way I make that, I promise you, but still.

SIDEBAR shout out to my friends Jessica Jobes and Writer Chris Holmes, who I have found myself with as "BookTriplets"... and shout out to Rick Theule and Megan Hall, also avid readers who's suggestions I take seriously. 

So without further meandering nonsensically, here are my favorite 10 books of 2015:

10) Outliers - Malcom Gladwell... My friend May Bohon recommended this, and its all about how success can be mostly attributed not to personal ambition but to our surroundings and environment.  This might also be the book that coined the idea that to be an expert in something, it takes 10,000 hours of doing it. I did like his theories, but I did feel like he put only a slight emphasis on hard work and ambition. Still, very well written.

9) Go Solo - Kelsey Humphreys... If you are going on a solo venture business wise, you need to read this book.  Lots of practical advice, lots of things to consider and think through.  I met Kelsey at a conference last summer (I actually took the stage to speak after she did!) and really liked what she's doing here.

8) Troublemaker - Leah Remini... That's right, Stacy Karosi from Saved by the Bell wrote a book and its all about her life in the scam known as Scientology.  And how she got out of it, and the aftermath since. It doesn't pull any punches, and really gets juicy when discussing her disdain for Tom Cruise... and her disdain is utter and clear.  She shares various stories of the ridiculous life she led and eventually left, and with her narrating the audiobook, its filled with great sarcasm and snark.

7) Gray Mountain - John Grisham... Breaking the mold of focusing on a single case, this story actually follows a young lawyer and her internship in a small Virginia coal mining town. In his writing, its evident that Grisham doesn't like the coal industry, but he does keep that to a minimum here with a few twists and turns, and this book has something that many of his books do not -- a satisfying ending.

NOTE:  I interchanged the next five books about four times.  What was #2 was #6 and #4 at one time, I swapped #5 and #6 about three times and the only thing that stayed the same was my favorite book of 2015.  So know that I love all of the following books nearly equally and only ranked them because I sorta had to.  

6) Finders Keepers - Stephen King... The second in what will be a trilogy (Mr. Mercedes was first, and End of Watch is coming in June to finish it), about Detective Bill Hodges.  Nothing supernatural, just a great suspense story of a boy who finds a big reward and then suffers its consequences. It's thrilling, edge of your seat tense and it has a fantastic finish.  Excited about the last one in June!

What makes this audiobook so good is that Al
does his own narration -- its like a trusted,
loved old uncle telling stories.
5) You Can't Make This Up - Al Michaels & L. Jon Werthem... My favorite memoir of the year, and its even better because Al narrates it himself.  Starting at the beginning of his career, he tells story after story of the small moments and the big ones too -- covering the 1989 San Fran earthquake and responding to 9/11 -- and he doesn't mind giving you a little guff for those he doesn't care for.  Like Howard Cosell.  Al don't like him no Cosell, trust me on this.  So much fun.

4) Dark Places - Gillian Flynn... The more I read this book, the more it stuck with me. It's the story of Libby Day, a child survivor of a family massacre that her brother is currently serving a life sentence for committing... but a few circumstances and chapters later, that is all drawn into question. Libby's unlikability is buoyed by a likable sidekick and all culminates in a heckuva ending. I enjoyed Gone Girl, but liked this one even more. (I had high hopes for the movie, and it was a letdown all the way around...)

3) Do Over - Jon Acuff... My favorite non-fiction book of the year, and the only book that I've ever (this year or other) re-started as soon as it was finished.  Read it twice in four days.  Jon Acuff writes what he knows, and what he knows is helping other people find who they are supposed to be.  I have had two Do Overs in three years... one in 2013, and one last August, and so this (along with "Go Solo" by Kelsey Humphrey) made for a great help in getting me started on my #LEAP of working from home.  Even if you are a little dissatisfied with your career or where you are in your life, I cannot recommend this book enough.  Tons of encouragement, instructions, guidance, life lessons and plenty of queso jokes.

Lots of language, but lots of fun
2) Girl on the Train - Paula Hawkins... When Rachel takes the train, she makes up stories for the people she sees along the journey to work, stories that are better than her own sad, pathetic life.  But one day she sees something wrong, something suspicious, something that doesn't make sense... and this sends her into a spiral and sends this story into a slow burn thrill ride.  I guessed the ending a few chapters before it was over, but that didn't stop me from loving it just as much.  Can't wait for the movie, because I am excited to see what they do with it, and also because I love me some Emily Blunt.

1) The Martian - Andy Weir... Holy stinkin' crap this book was stellar and amazing.  Either you've seen the movie or you've heard of it, but it not, the story is that Mark Watney gets stranded on Mars after a Mars landing trip has an accident. The story follows not only Mark in a first person narrative, but those in his ship and those back on Earth as they try to save him. It's tense, funny, and though you'd think it would be technical, it is actually explained through jokes and in simple terms for us, the silly reader, to get.  This will be a re-read in a few years.

Other books I really enjoyed this year:
Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton... The movie followed the book fairly well, but the book has more death and a main character who lives in the movie has their fate left unknown in the book.

Bossypants by Tina Fey... I love Tina Fey.

The Missing Ring by Keith Dunnavant... The story of how the Alabama Crimson Tide was essentially robbed of the national title in 1966 (and this was a legit claim for once).

Deliver us by Kathryn Casey... My favorite true crime writer tells tales and shares stories of the infamous murders and disappearances along The Killing Fields, the stretch along I-45 on the eastern border of Texas.

You Might Be a Zombie and Other Bad News by the Editors of Cracked.com... One of my favorite humor sites culls together some of their funniest (true) articles, with titles like "Five Fight Moves that Only Work In Movies" and "Four Greatest Things Ever Accomplished While High" and my favorite, one that describes dolphins as "sex crazed thrill killers", the chapter called "The Six Cutest Animals That Can Kill You".

And books I re-read this year (that didn't qualify for the Top Ten of 2015, but were obviously great because I took time to re-read them):

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin... Loved it as a kid, and I actually didn't remember a single thing about it.  It was like reading a new book.

Salem's Lot by Stephen King... My favorite King book, and I go through it every few Octobers.

The Christmas Box by Richard Paul Evans... I love reading this around Christmas time.

Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone by JK Rowling... Re-read the entire series every few years.  Usually I go straight through, but in 2016, I may sprinkle them in all year.

And finally... books on tap this year... the aforementioned Kinda Wilson's "The Echo Factor"... Corie Clark's "The Simplicity Project"... Drew Barrymore's "Wildflower"... Amy Poehler's "Yes Please"... Jen Kirkman's "I Can Barely Take Care of Myself"... Ethan Bryan's "Catch & Release"... Justin Fisher's "Conehatta, Cerebral Palsy & the Cross "... a reread of James Stewart's "Disney War"... and more Harry Potter. Oh, and my buddy Clay Shaver has one coming out too...

That's obviously an incomplete list.  With the five I've read, plus those right there, that still puts me 29 short.




Tuesday, December 01, 2015

to campbell, on your 4th birthday

Coincidentally, in my TimeHop today.
Dear Campbell,

Wow... welcome to 4 years old!  Your mom and I have said, on more than one occasion, "Can you believe this kid is about to be 4?!" and the response is always, "No, it's crazy!"

You know what 4 means, right? This means you aren't a baby anymore, and you are kind of sort of a toddler, but are actually becoming a kid... a kid who can do things, a kid who can talk, a kid who is smarter than you let on.

As I've written in a previous letter:  You were born [four] years ago on this date.  Yesterday, a year ago, I got a call from your mom that things were progressing quicker than we thought... And it was the next day, or today-one year-that you came to meet us... (it was a week later when we brought you home) 

Let's talk about the year, though... it's 2015, and my favorite films of the year so far have been a few action flicks, like "Mad Max Fury Road", "The Martian" and "Kingsman Secret Service", an animated new classic, "Inside Out", and a few comedies like "Pitch Perfect 2", along with "Spy" and of course, the super hero trend continues, with "Ant Man" being quite an unexpected hit this year.  "Avengers Age of Ultron" also came out, but just didnt pack the umph that the first one did.

Hopefully you have avoided "Fantastic Four" that came out this year, because it is a real turd bucket, let me tell you.

Your mom and I don't watch a lot of  television, other than HGTV (I like "Flip or Flop" -- don't tell your mom, but its mostly because of co-host Christina--and she likes "Property Brothers", which I assume has a little to do with Drew & Whatshisname Twin guy) and DVR'ed episodes of "Grey's Anatomy"... I do like "Survivor" and "The Amazing Race" still.  Is that still on when you are reading this in 2019 or 2022?

And as far as music goes, can I tell you that I have actually not purchased any song from iTunes this year that is actually FROM this year, other than this little ditty called "Uptown Funk"?  If you haven't seen it, get on whatever version of YouTube you have, or go find my old iPod and listen.  It's a hoot.

Now... let's talk about you.  You are super smart, kid.  You really are. I've watched you be frustrated one day over a game on your iPad that you can't figure out, then watched you the next day play the same game and you are flying through it.  Your mom and I have a volume app on the iPad that regulates how loud you  turn it up... and dang you, if you don't figure out a way around it every single time, despite the fact it's got a password on the app.

I watch you in wonder as you watch the world in wonder... I smiled when we were at Disney World this November, and you watched the big Disney buses like they were the most interesting thing in the entire world... and to you, in those moments, I think they were.

You had this thing about sticking your hand in characters mouths and
noses.  We are hoping this tendency remains (and halts) with those who
have large fiberglass heads and not real people.
You are starting to really recognize things now... while in the Winnie the Pooh ride, we could tell that you knew who Tigger was.  And when Mickey Mouse Clubhouse comes on, you know the songs--its funny to watch you stop what you are doing and stare at the TV during the Hot Dog song, sometimes jumping up and down, sometimes clapping and always smiling.   We could tell you also recognized Doc McStuffins and Jake from the Neverland Pirates, which was a treat to see.

Your fascination with opening and closing doors is also a wonder.  We watch as you love to turn locks and doorknobs, open doors, look out, then close them quickly.  Then do it again.  Whether its a door handle on a car (of which sometimes is not ours) or a door knob at school, at Pops & GG's house or the meeting house at the park, you love turning knobs.  It's hilarious.

We've watched you this year as you've learned new words too... your mom and I both have prayed many prayers over you, but one consistent prayer is that you would talk. And talk you have.  Words like "Apple", "Berry", "Turkey", "Bus", "Sock", "Up", "Outside", "Monkey" and many, many more are  things you say over and over.  You are learning names of those around you, like Mama and Dada (Mahmaamaa and Ga-Ga), which fills our hearts with joy that you know our names and who we are to you.

You and I play this game, a game that your mom can't get you to play with her and it drives her nuts... You'll say "Ga-Ga", and I'll say "Campbell". Then you say "Ga-Ga" again, and I'll look at you and say "Campbell".  And sometimes we do this three or four times, other times we do it off and on all night, and I can't get enough.

By now you have already known God has given you a few opportunities that He didn't give other kids (by the same token, they have things to deal with that you don't, so don't feel slighted).  You deal with Autism.  It's something that has kept you from learning as fast as other kids.  While your friend Carter and your friend (and perhaps lady-in-waiting, as she loves her some Campbell D) Clara are writing, having conversations with their parents, having imagination filled playtimes, you aren't there.  Well, not yet.

You can color some, and though we can converse with you, its very broken, few words and some body language needed.  Your imagination hasn't come yet--though we did watch you pick up bowls & cups and put them to your ears to hear the different sounds, which wasn't taught to you... that makes it pretty cool you figured that out.

I hate to use the word "different", but yes, there are some differences. And that's okay.  Our milestones with you are somewhat different than milestones some parents have... the day you started saying "Da-Da" and "Mama" on a regular basis was huge for us, just like the day that you learned how to jump up and down, or the day when you learned the hand motions for Itsy Bitsy Spider.

The last known picture of Campbell as a
three year old
These are the kind of things that you are learning at school, at Mitchell's Place, and it's not crazy to say that MP is changing your life, and ours.  Miss Whitton and Miss Iyanna and Miss Carrie are doing so much with you, one on one, every day, teaching you, helping you understand and learn and talk and... well, play.  We know you love to play.

But at Disney World, watching you on top of that hill where the slide was, watching you wait in line patiently and not jumping ahead of kids, watching you wait your turn before sliding... just the social interaction alone was so sweet to see.

But you have to understand something... you are SO LOVED.  Not just by us, your mom and dad.  Not just by Pops & GG and Granny Jan and Pawpaw Randy.  Not just by your aunts and uncles and cousins... but you have so many friends who have met you and love you.  Mrs Rachel was the one who gave you your iPad because she loved you, and there are countless people on social media, in your Dad's social communities and even just friends, who love you and love reading
about you and seeing your pictures and keeping up with you.  You are loved and cherished and prayed for, so don't ever forget that.

I know this has been a jumbled mess to read, Campbell, and I'm sorry for that.  I just have so much to say and want to get it all down on paper, and don't even know how to connect it, so I hope it reads well--at least well enough for you.  Your mom and I love you so much, but even more than that, Jesus Christ loves and died for you, and your mom and I both pray that you will find Him and accept Him and believe in Him.  And you know if you ever have any questions, we will be here.

You are a special kid, kid.  And you are now four years old.  And we are so proud of you, Campbell Isaiah.

Love,
Daddy

My previous birthday letters... 
To Campbell on your 1st birthday
To Campbell on your 2nd birthday
To Campbell on your 3rd birthday


Thursday, October 22, 2015

three months later

They say if you haven't done something for a while, even if you did it frequently in the past, you sometimes can pick it right back up like... well, like "riding a bike".  Well, if you haven't ridden a bike in many, many years, riding a bike isn't the easiest thing in the world.  Especially if it's an undersized Star Wars bike that you are trying to navigate through the aisles of a Target.  

It's been a while since I've written anything.  I'm liable to be all over the map here, my grammar may be terrible and my sentence structure may need a de-fib kit for some life.  Which pretty much makes it like anything else I've ever written.

So I do have to ask your forgiveness for that, and for the following post.  It's not very good--I don't say that in false humility, I mean it.  I mean it's just not very good, and that's okay.  Sometimes they aren't that great... but, I do have to learn this part again.  

Earlier this year, I had the pleasure and thrill of writing up what was my 1000th post on this here blog site.  It began as a 3 part series that chronicled my own writing journey, why I wrote, who I wrote about and how it all came to be. 

That was on April 16th.  The next week, on April 22nd, I wrote the second part to it, then on April 29th, part 3 came about... which fittingly was about a "writing a dry spell".  And I say fittingly, because the final part of the series was posted six weeks later.  Called "Write Up to Now", it was the conclusion of my writing history up until that very moment. 

As it if it was written as such a purpose, I wrote: 

I can't promise you I'll blog every week, but I will try.  I have no plans to change the content... it will still be about movies, music, pop culture, life, family, Disney, random Amy Adams (whom I'm in love with) references, random Julie Wise references (because I think its funny at this point), random Troy and Samson stories, maybe the final season of American Idol, and maybe just a little bit of politics...


And I wrote it as such because I had no idea when I would blog again.  Best laid plans had me sitting down and writing the next week.  Then the next week came, and then the writing was pushed back again... and again... and again... 

A few things happened in this time frame.  I left my job.  My 40 hour per week steady paycheck job... I turned my notice in and walked away 2 weeks later to pursue my passion--being a travel planner, concentrating on Disney and Universal, eventually to expand to other travel ventures.

Plus, in working from home, I'd spend more time with Campbell, my 3 year old, as I got him ready for school every day and picked him up in the afternoon.  Theoretically, I would spend my evenings now with The Lovely Steph Leann... of course, neither one of us expected business to pick up like it did, so some nights I am still at the laptop pulling quotes and working on itineraries, even after spending 6 hours on them that day.

I turned 40.  I had all these visions and plans of my 40th birthday posts, I had a great idea for a series called "#ThisIs40" that I would write over the next year or so, discussing 40 years on Earth.  Here it is late October, and I've actually written down five topics for that series. I wrote those down in a notebook, last February.

Campbell started school.  He's talking.  Not a ton, but he's saying stuff now.  I have a book idea on paper.  Haven't typed a word down, but the idea is there.  College football season has started.  My movie podcast, The Deucecast Movie Show, is nearing its 200th episode.  I bought some stuff to work on my own Disney podcast, set to launch in September.  Of 2015, natch.

And what happens... life.  Life happens.  Life jumps in the way and says, "You got plans, so do I.  Mine supersede yours, bucko."  Houses get messy, new Disney podcasts get pushed back until January (the latest plan now), the college football season is half over, I'm already two months into my 40th year... ah life.

Life is truly what happens while you're busy making other plans.  John Lennon said that.  Nice man, shot in the back, very sad.

Now, you may be sitting there thinking, "Wait... is he not going to write anymore?  Is he shutting down his site?!"  And other people are thinking, "Wait, you still have a blog?!" and yet, a few of you are thinking, "I didn't know you had a blog site.  When did you start that?  And who reads blogs anymore?"

The answers... Yes, I am.  No, I'm not.  Yes, I do.  Yes, I do.  Over ten years ago.  And 280,500 clicks on my site means something, suckas.... 

I miss this bike.  I miss this page.  I miss being able to toss down some thoughts and say some stupid things and smart things and have people go "Wow, that was stupid" or "wow, that was surprisingly smart".  

My friend Libby Norcross said it in a speech not too long ago... "What can you not not do?"  And that's writing.  I can not not (who's there?) write.  I can not not put stuff on paper, or at least, a screen.  

Frankly, I'd love to have the time to write things down on paper... but I'm too impatient.  I actually can't type fast enough when sending an email or an instant message for my liking, and find myself using voice texting sometimes unnecessarily--then I have a ton of mistakes in the voice to text translation, have to go back and correct everything and find that it would have been a shorter time to just type it out. 

Such is.

Anyway, this is my latest blog post.  I have a ton of stuff to talk about in the coming days, weeks, months, and I still have a plan to do some "series" type stuff... especially my "#ThisIs40" idea.  Maybe people will read it, maybe they won't, but it will be a great record of my own life for years to come.

Now... I have to go and life.  




Thursday, June 11, 2015

write up to now

So, a month and some change later, here is the end of this story... 
The Story of My Write, the 1000th post is Here...
Write On Through High School (Part Two) is Here...
Write On Through the Dry Spell (Part Three) is here...

May was so uber busy for me, much of it is a blur.  Not only did I finish up and send off about 9 families to Disney World and Universal Studios, but in the last week, I've helped 5 more families get out the door to the magic that awaits. Hence, not a single word on this blog since the end of April, which makes me sad because now May 2015 will have nothing in the "published" tab in the archives over there --->

And that's how life is, huh? 

So, at the end of the last blog published, I was finishing up the "Story of My Write", which is a history of my writing... not really for you, honestly, but for me, so when I'm 77, sitting in a wheelchair in the Sunny Meadows Nursing Home and can't remember when I last took a poopy--which will probably be while I'm thinking "when did I last take a poopy?"--Campbell, 41 years old by then, can come for his monthly visit and read to me my own life stories.  Then he can tell me my name and where I am, because I likely won't remember that either.

Let's finish this entire thing up by taking you back to spring 2005.  I had been married for just over a year, I had been involved with Valleydale Baptist Church for about 6 years, The Lovely Steph Leann and I had really become close to our new Sunday School Life Connection Life Group Sunday School class (the "NearlyWed/Newlywed Class") and our church was going to New York City for a week to do some mission work in Queens and Brooklyn.  I was all in, because having been to NYC a few years previous, I fell in love with the city and had a heart for it's people. 

In a "trip meeting", where everyone comes together for cheap pizza and Milo's sweet tea in a classroom after service to watch a video about what we'll be doing, they were looking for "online journaling people"... that is, people who will be willing to write up a daily summary to share with the group back home in Birmingham.  I raised my hand because no one else did, and my name was put down.   I was told to just write up a few paragraphs at the end of each day and email it to someone in the church, and they would post it on the church website.

Challenge accepted.

But also, I wanted more than just people in our church to know what was going on, so after Star Wars Celebration (mentioned in the previous post) and that slight experience in writing, I decided I would go to Blogger.com and set up an account... I did.  And when it came to a name, I thought "Well, this is only for my NYC trip, so... New York Dave?  Nah... um... Mission Trip... Nope... Broadway... I love Broadway stuff... how about...

BroadwayDave. That works."

Now, in hindsight, I would have come up with something that would make sense beyond just this trip, but I also remember not thinking much would come of this blog after the trip.  I'd write about the trip and be done with it.  Maybe save the posts into a word document onto a floppy disk for safe keeping (remember... this is 1995, and "flash drives" were not affordable and many computers didn't have USB ports anyway).

My first post was called "Less than 30 Days", and it was a quick little blurb on who was actually going on the trip, back when my audience barely eclipsed those people.  I then decided I would practice a little writing by doing another post, this time about my love of Kelly Clarkson and her new (then) song "Behind These Hazel Eyes"...

I followed it up with a few more, including the sadness of finishing a Harry Potter book, picking up "Harry Potter & the Half-Blood Prince at 1201a on release day, a take on MC Hammer and a few more random notes... then the trip began, and my first trip blog came out on July 27th, 2005, introducing everyone going on the trip--remember, I'm still writing on the premise that when this trip is over, so will my blogpage.

We were staying in Manhattan at a hostel, basically... each tiny room had a thin mattressed bunk bed, a window that barely opened, and down the hall a small bathroom with a shower--one that you had to essentially duck into, as there was a frame that held the shower door... a short frame.

And it was hot.  I mean, freakin' hot.  Like, walk outside and the cold shower you just had in the tiny community bathroom upstairs a little bit ago was now negated by the hot, humid temperature at 5am.   Ick.

The sole computer in the building was downstairs and cost $5 an hour, and was old... when you typed a sentence, the cursor wouldn't move.  Then about 20 seconds later, the cursor would fly across the screen leaving in it's wake all the letters you just typed, only missing some words, misspelling words, skipping letters, forgetting punctuation and more.  So a post that would normally take me 25 minutes took over an hour.  Still, I did it.  I posted the day's events every night.

I would also send it back to the church email address and they would post it as well... only on day three, I wrote this about my roommate Larry:

So, it was hot. It still is. Anyone who knows me knows I sweat when I think too much, so last night wasn't great... though with the fan, it wasn't that bad, honestly. Larry, sleeping in the bunk under me, had a bigger problem. Apparently his fitted sheet came off, and he stuck to the plastic mattress cover in his sleep, creating that "sscchhllllleeeepppp" sound when he moved.

Someone sent me an email a few days later (I could only check my email during this hot, late night computer time) asking for the blog address, as the church stopped posting what I had written.  I found out later they thought the idea of a "shirtless Larry" was inappropriate for publishing... to me, it was the best way to explain the heat.   Oh, there was also the story of the naked French guy...

Apparently, there is a naked french guy roaming the halls. He approached Paula in a towel, but Tim only saw him wearing the Star of David on a chain on his neck. I think his name is Jon.

That probably didn't help either.

By the 11th NYC trip blog, I had made the decision that I wanted to keep blogging, because I enjoyed it.   So I did just that.

I started writing about anything and everything... I posted recaps about American Idol episodes... I talked about my marriage and fun with The Lovely Steph Leann... reviewed movies... discussed Disney... talked about friends and family... delved into politics... pop culture and more pop culture... I even did a 100 Coolest Things of the Year for a few years running...

I go back and read some of the stuff I wrote--especially about politics--and will sometimes even wince, thinking "I could have worded that better... eh, I probably shouldn't have said that at all... yikes, that was a d-bag thing to write..."

Then again, I read some of the early posts and think, "Wow... that was really funny... could I write that kind of funny stuff again?"

Evolution of a writer, I guess you would say.  Somewhere along the way I realized that yes, people do actually read what I write, especially since I had random people at church, at work and in life just tell me, "Hey, I enjoyed your blog the other day..."  People that make you say, "You read that?"

So at the end of June, Clouds is My Coffee celebrates 10 years of existence. Not nearly as old as some online journals and blogs... but way, way older than most.

And here I am, at 250,000+ page views over the lifetime of the blog... not bad, I think.  I'd probably say 100K of them came in the last two years, so I'm on my way to a million hits.  Think about that... 1,000,000 individual page views.  Holy crap. 

I can't promise you I'll blog every week, but I will try.  I have no plans to change the content... it will still be about movies, music, pop culture, life, family, Disney, random Amy Adams (whom I'm in love with) references, random Julie Wise references (because I think its funny at this point), random Troy and Samson stories, maybe the final season of American Idol, and maybe just a little bit of politics...

Obama is a tool, incompetent, and the worst president this country has ever known.

Well, maybe not too much politics, at least until after the 2016 election.

So, thanks for reading.  Thanks for visiting the page.  Don't be afraid to check out some of the blog links I have over there ---> and give them a spin as well. 

And that... is the story of my write.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

write on through the dry spell

This is the part of the show where this story gets lengthy, you, the reader, are ready to move onto something else, and I, the writer, must ask for your patience... quite simply, I want to finish this story, no matter who does (and doesn't) read it...

It's the story of my writing. How it started, like in part one... and writing in high school, which is part two... so here is part three... the dry spell in college leading up to the creation of this blog and beyond.

I think I neglected to mention that I kept a journal from about 9th grade to the summer after I graduated. Literally, I would write a sentence or two every day or two about what's happening, what I was writing, accomplishments and so on. Doogie Howser had a blue screen on his PC, I had a notebook with Paula Abdul on the front. Well, one of them anyway, because I filled about a dozen notebooks over the course of five years.

Doogie used to end every episode by writing one or two
lines that encapsulated what we just watched in the
previous 1/2 hour, almost like a "what I learned today"
thing.  Problem was, some were so vague that in five
years, he had to read over some of those and thing "What
the crap was I talking about?  What does this even mean?!"
And when I got to Troy State, I just up and stopped. No slowly ceasing to write, no gentle progression of forgetfulness when it comes to journaling, no I just straight up didn't do it anymore. I tried for about three or four days after I got to college, and when a week went by with nothing written, I just packed it away in a box. I don't think it was writer's block so much as it was, I just didn't want to do it.

I was in college from September of 1993 to March of 1998, and anyone who knows me knows that I loved the heck out of college... I made the most out of my 5 years there, and wouldn't change much of it (well, except I might not get that Discover card... darn you Rebecca Miller and your green eyes!)

How I got to Birmingham is a topic that goes onto the pile of things mentioned in this post that will become their own blog post one day, but for now, just know that the first 6 months or so in Birmingham, Alabama, were some of the hardest months of my life. I was along, I knew not a soul, the reason (I thought anyway) that I had moved here was in Tuscaloosa with nary any contact, I had no church home, and I was broke and hungry and nearly depressed.

I then sat down with a few sheets of paper and went back to a routine that I knew well. I was going to write a love letter to my very dear friends, some of my favorite people, in the form of a story... it was a "where we will be in 5 years" type story, entitled "Hey Now"--the title being a play on words from something in the story itself. And I still have it, all 55 pages, written in pencil on loose leaf paper, in a binder. It was the beginning of closure for my time at Troy State...

(this is the part where I stop typing, lean back in my chair and stare out the window, while "The Story" by Brandi Carlile starts to play)

From about July 1998 to February of 1999 were 7 of the hardest months of my life. I was in Birmingham, I was alone, I barely knew anyone, I hadn't found a church until late in that time period, the reason I had moved (her name was Amy, in case you are wondering) and I hadn't even talked, and it was painful and dreadful and expensive and... well, lonely.

You'd think I'd plunge myself back into writing, and I tried. The story I mentioned, the one I had floating in my head for all this time, I tried to put it on paper, and got nothing. I wrote "Hey Now" for my friends in college in August of 1998, but beyond that, nothing. Call it writer's block, call it lack of desire, call it what you want, not only could I not write, but I just didn't want to try.

Over the next few years, a great number of things happened--once again, more stories for another post--but in that time, I got involved in Valleydale Baptist Church... I moved into an apartment with a couple of guys who would become some of my closest and dearest friends, people that some of you know like Shawn Sharp, my buddy Mikey, Tommy Mac, Big Tom Johnson and so on. Not too long after that, we moved into a four bedroom that would be christened "The Deuce". In late 2000, I met a young lady named Stephanie Campbell, and in early 2001, we became good friends. Things were clicking.

Though I didn't own a computer until much, much later, my buddy Mikey did, as did Shawn Sharp, and so one day I sat down in front of one of those computers, and rather than taking a risk, or overthinking it, I went back to what was familiar. I took the people closest to me--roommates, good friends, etc--and wrote still another story, this time called "The Hillary Letters". It was about our friend Ty, who was in love with another friend Hillary, and a particular afternoon where a love letter from he to she gets picked up by the wrong hands, causing a series of silly misunderstandings that culminated with Mikey standing on top of the dining room table doing a John Malkovich impression right before it collapsed. I read this not too long ago (this is one of the few I still have) and it holds up, stupid as the concept might be.

The next year, I had my adult "Dayton's Quest" moment, the one that this time didn't help me discover real writing, but instead brought me back to writing. I wrote another "friends" story, this time over the course of three or four days during Christmas, and I'll be honest with you... I think its really, really good. I'm so proud of it, in fact, that I actually posted here on this website some years ago.

What I mean by "brought me back to writing" was quite simply, it let me know that I can do it--I could still do it. It let me know that yes, I can come up with things, solve problems, invent situations and lay them together in a cohesive story, and in one of my favorite tropes, I can interconnect seemingly unconnected plots with only a few passing sentences. It's called, stupidly enough, "A Very Deuce Christmas".  Perhaps it's not well written, and I know there are parts that need to be straightened up a little, but truthfully?  I like it.

So that brings us to Clouds in My Coffee. First, let me say that in 2005, I had no idea what "blogging" was. Not a clue. A group of us, Mikey and Tommy Mac included, was scheduled to go to Star Wars Celebration in Indianapolis, early that year, and Tommy created a blog set up for the trip, perhaps for us to report back, post pictures on the interweb and so on... he opened it up for us to create an account name and post.

I created the name "Dave Windu", and wrote a paragraph about the upcoming trip, not really having a clue what I was doing. But I hit publish, and there it was, for all the world to see. And it kind of confounded me. Someone suggested that I look at Live Journal and MySpace, perhaps to do online journaling there, so I opened up an account on both--hey Top 8, how are you?

And now... the final part of the story... including a mission trip, mistakes, American Idol, The Lovely Steph Leann and more... coming tomorrow.

1002

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

write on through high school

(The beginning of this post can be found here, chronicling my writing history and where I sort of figured out that I liked writing)

As mentioned before, I had a good time writing stories that involved my friends, putting us in various ridiculous situations, but began to stick my foot in the pool of real fiction with my fairytale "Dayton's Quest".

I began to churn out stories every few weeks from there, and my friends wanted to read them, friends that went beyond just the guys I shared paper adventures with (though I did write a story called "1967" putting myself and friends in Vietnam... only Johnny Knowles and I survived the attack by the Vietcong, according to my tale--Jason Smith died a most honorable death, as did Clay Fulford #namedrop).  They would actually pass around a sheet of paper, signing up to the be the first to read whatever I wrote. 

In particular, Tammy Thomas was one of my biggest fans--to the extent I actually had fans--and that which always warmed my heart... I'll never forget her coming to me, more than once, and saying "Are you finished with the new story?  You know I'm on the list first, you know I get it first".   It's one of those small compliments probably forgotten about by everyone but me.  And she's still pretty awesome to the day (thank you Facebook!)

And just for fun, here are a few of the stories I put on paper and released:

**A story called "Tophet", which was, according to my Roget's Thesaurus, another word for "hell" or the "underworld", and it was about a man who buys a video game on Christmas Eve in a back alley from a shady dude, and then gives it to his son for Christmas the next day--and when you play the game, people die in real life, and the end of the game opens up a portal... to Hell.  Boom.  Maybe a little Poltergeisty, but I dug the concept.

**"Reach Out and Touch Someone", a play on the slogan of the old slogan from Bell Telephone (which in 1992 wasn't that far removed from being a real thing), was a divorcee with a young daughter trapped in a house with a crazy sociopath who has, somehow, nailed all the windows shut and boarded all the doors up.  At that time, it made sense. The sequel, called "Hunted", got as far as the first chapter, but was then abandoned... and it was just as well.

**"The Long & Winding Road" was a Hallmark worthy tale of a snotty rich chick who is on a hayride while visiting her country bumpkin cousin, and after a stop, is accidentally left behind with said cousin.  The two barely know each other, despite being family and live worlds-apart, but are forced to walk together, and look out for another, along the five mile long dirt road back to the church... and along the way, she learns a little of what it's like to be kind and generous.  (this is one of my favorites, by the way)

**"Radio Talk", a conversation between an overnight DJ and a caller who seems to be a little off the edge.  The entire story was written all in quotes, which at the time I thought was a pretty cool angle.  Oh, okay, fine, I still think its a cool angle. 

**And one of my favorites of all time, "Out of Time", the story of a teenager who is gravely injured in the 1930s, is given an experimental drug that puts him into a coma, and doesn't age a bit, until he wakes up in 1994 under the name John Doe.  He befriends a pretty nursing student, who helps him escape the clutches of a cruel doctor who wants our John Doe (I cannot remember his name, but this was written in 1992, so forgive me) for more experimentation--thus begins a comical chase story where John Doe and Pretty Student Nurse are trying to find an antidote for the 1930s drug, a drug that is now causing him to age rapidly.

SIDEBAR: Some years later, I came across a movie called "Late for Dinner", which actually has some of the same plotlines... remember, this was a time when there was no iTunes or Netflix or any kind of streaming service.  You had to rent this movie, and it wasn't all that popular, so our local video stores may have had one copy somewhere... but I say it now before the world--mine was an original idea, not borrowed from this film.  I still haven't seen it, by the way.   

I did a couple of more "friend" stories too, mostly as something fun to do... I wrote one called "Witness for the Prosecution" which at the time didn't sound like a lame legal cliche, about a lawyer (my friend Jennifer Lambert took that role) trying to figure out if her client is actually guilty or not (turns out Michael Creech was in fact, guilty), and another story with an equally bad cliched name I can't remember, this one a cat-and-mouse game story about two cops (my friends Stan McDuffie and Jason Smith) trying to track down a serial killer. The premise of the first one was actually pretty good, it just needed more details than my 16 year old mind could produce, while the latter was actually a little silly--but Stan's death scene was actually pretty cool.

And I even did a few stupid stories that included my friends in band, almost parodies full of inside jokes and cliches, one being a western and one being a space adventure.  And no, I didn't get the girl in either, because how am I going to write about ending up with Julie Wise (or Stephanie Phillips, who I crushed on for about six months in 10th grade) and not be completely humiliated at that concept? 

I even had an attempt at poetry, and I still have a yellow folder entitled "d$'s Real Dumb Poetry"--and the title isn't an attempt at humility. Not at all. It's so bad.  Keep in mind that though I did some stuff on a typewriter, I couldn't afford to buy ribbon over and over, so 90% of this was done with a mechanical pencil and paper. 

I loved writing.   And for a kid who is 15, 16, going on 17, I was pretty good at it.  That's not bragging, that's just saying that I know I had a knack for it. 


I scanned the Senior Superlative picture in question,
but because it was out of a yearbook, it was really
grainy.  Anyway, this is Christy and I, paired up
again, this time voted as March (April?) 93's
Calendar Couple in Home Ec.  Strangly enough, we
were never actually a couple of any kind, other than
being good friends. 

And to this day, I still don't know what the purpose
of a "calendar couple" is.  Go SHS!
I was voted Most Creative as a senior for our Senior Superlatives, alongside Christy Mock and her incredible singing voice...

ANOTHER SIDEBAR... So, to take the Senior Superlative picture, it was decided that I, who was in the band, and Christy, who was not, needed to meet in the bandroom, because we could set up a keyboard for her to use as a prop.  The prop that I needed would be a typewriter.  And while the keyboard was in a closet in the bandroom, the typewriter--a huge honk of a machine that was pretty dated even in 1993--was across the entire school in Mrs. Rials' classroom.  Those of you from Samson will know what a haul that is.  So on a warm late April midday, in the south Alabama humidity, I had to go to Mrs. Rials class, borrow a typewriter, haul that sucker across the entire school--why did I not ask for a handcart or trolley of some sort?  where were you to tell me these things?--to the bandroom, wipe off the pouring sweat, take a picture, then haul it all the way back to Mrs. Rials class.  Great picture, beautiful companion in the shot, terrible set up methods.  And if you look in the yearbook, you can't see the keyboard, and you can only see the edge of the typewriter.  Such is.  Back to the story.

...and my plans were to start drafting a book soon, maybe during high school.  I pulled out my electric typewriter, and began to type a story that was rolling around in my head, one with a guy named Peter and a girl named Julianne Frye, and a third wheel named Daily, and a best friend named Barrow, and a mean girl named Piper Huffin and a janitor named Ezekial and a couple named Troy and Suzy and...

...and it was going to be great.  Or, at least the first few pages I typed were great.  Or good.  Or terrible, who knows.  I started the story about four times and never got past page 5.  Oh, and then I graduated and went to college, which is great, because in college, I can sit up late and write, right?

And my first night at Troy State University began what essentially was a five year long case of writer's block.  More on that tomorrow.

post 1,001

Thursday, April 16, 2015

the story of my write (the 1000th cloud)

What to do for a post that marks your 1000th time you've hit "publish"?  After tossing around a few ideas, starting a few posts and then tossing a few more ideas, I decided I wanted to go back and remember how all of this got started... no, not in 2005, when the blog started--I mean, back to 1982, when I first realized I liked writing.  This post is broken up into two parts for easier reading, because I'm always too wordy.  Oh, and thanks for coming back here day after day...

How did you start writing?  I mean, if you are a writer, and I know a lot of you are.  Since I started this blog in 2005, oh, you know, ONE THOUSAND posts ago, I think another thousand people that I know have started a blog of their own... some have kept going and make for a good read, and others have done one, two, maybe five posts and it sits forgotten in the graveyard of good intentions--the blogsite edition.

Writing is a funny thing... not everyone can do it, though there are far more people who think they can (and thereby do) than actually can (and shouldn't).  I lost a bet on our podcast, The Deucecast Movie Show, and was forced to watch a Paris Hilton film called "The Hillz" (yes, with a Z).  The screenwriter is a fella named Saran Barnun, and if this film's script is to be used as evidence, Saran is someone who thinks he can write... but probably shouldn't.  Then again, I should never sing nor act, but I attempt both, so there's that...

I'm not saying I'm the end all be all, please don't get me wrong.  At no point will I wave this blog in front of anyone and say "see this!  look what I wrote!  I'm the Grisham/King/Rowling heir apparent!!" or anything of the kind, but... but I think I'm not bad at it.  Ten years later, I've got over 230K views on this site, so that's gotta count for something, right?  Maybe?  Humblebrag, indeed.

My first writing venture was when I was in 2nd grade... I decided I wanted to write a play for some strange reason, and had titled it "The Prince & the Princess", because at 7, I was striving for originality.  Once I revealed my plan to do so, several of my classmates were pretty excited about being it it.  Melissa Gonzalez and Tony Sanchez wanted to be the leads, though I cannot remember if I casted them or Melissa just insisted... doesn't matter, especially when you see how this ended. 

Becky Rocha was my villain, my evil witch... now this was a part she wanted because she was all into the bad guys in stuff.  I don't think she grew up to be Marilyn Manson (we all know that it was Paul from The Wonder Years that turned into Marilyn Manson!  Wait... what?) or anything, she was just 7 and thought the witch part would be cool.

I remember writing this bit of dialogue...

The Prince:  Hello, my princess.  You are very pretty!
The Princess:  Thank you!  I think you are cute too!
The Witch, over in the bushes:  I don't like you or you, and I'll get you!

That's it. 

In my mind I had this vision of a princess in some sort of mortal danger, and a dashing prince from a far away land had come to rescue her from the clutches of the evil, and green (because when you are 7, witches look like the Wicked Witch of the West, not all cutesy and patootsie like Hermione Granger).  Also, I'm really not sure where I was going to get the means to produce such a stage play that at the least, would require a battle scene between the good guy and bad chick, but I figured I would think of something.  And honestly, I think I would have.  

SIDEBAR:  It's important to note that I had never seen Sleeping Beauty, Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs, Cinderella or any of those movies that would have likely inspired me to such ideas.

So the script wasn't much to go on, but didn't stop me from calling a practice at recess.  Separate 2nd graders from their recess time and the response is never favorable.  So 7 year old d$ calls Melissa, Tony, Becky and Brian Bruner (my 2nd grade best friend who wanted to help) over by the school wall, where there is some open space for practice--with no script beyond three lines--and they grumble and mumble and complain.  

Sometimes I cannot remember what I had for lunch the day before, but I vividly remember that 32 years ago, Melissa said to me, "What are we doing here?  This is stupid!!" and I replied, "I made you come over here so... you could go play!"  And they did.  Thus ended "The Prince & the Princess".

Somewhere in the middle of 2nd grade, I also created a cast of comic characters.  Now, for some reason, I decided to take Gonzo from The Muppets, make him taller, sharpen his beak a little, make him not as silly and use him as a character, and yet, still call him Gonzo... I didn't really know what "plagiarism" was back then, so grant me that, if ya don't mind...

This was a drawing I did this morning, and I think I'm
pretty dead on as to what they looked like
Anyway, rather than model the rest of the gang after The Muppets, I actually drew from the Archie comics gang, and so in 2nd grade, I began to draw and write a series of short comics featuring Chip the Bird, Freddie the Alligator, Debbie the Rabbit, I Can't Remember His Name the Cat and a few others that I also cannot possibly remember at this time... I think I actually copied some stories from Archie Comics (even at a young age, I had a pretty good sized collection--now I think I have about 50 various digests, comics and trade paperbacks... but that's another blog...)

Smashcut to three years later, I've left Ridgetop Elementary School in Austin, Texas, and am now residing in Mrs Wikel's 5th grade class at Samson Elementary School (I moved in the middle of my 4th grade year), and am still writing random things.  I think I wrote a poem to Misty Kimble, my first ever crush that wasn't Jo from Facts of Life, and I always was ready in Mrs Wikel's writing assignments that forced us to use vocabulary words from the week.  I even wrote a two page story in ten minutes once because I had procrastinated the assignment until literally the last minute, and as I got up to read it, I had to sorta make up the last sentence or two, then go back to my desk and scribble it down before turning it in.  #HumbleBrag indeed.

Transformers were all the rage when it came to being a kid, as was a book entitled "How to Eat Fried Worms".  So, I decided to write a take off of it called "How to Eat Fried Transformers".  Same concept, except the kids are different, and they are eating... you guessed it, Transformers.  And it was a complete story.  A terrible, stupid, ridiculous story, but still a story.

I also started getting into comic books, so naturally, I wanted to draw my own... so, I created... wait for it... wait for it... The Foodformers.  And yes, this is just like it sounds... food that turned into robots. 

Read that again. 

Food. 

That turned into robots.

I think I'll talk about the war between the Fruitibots and the Veggiecons on Dinnertrion in a different post, for the sake of not making this post 15K words...

Back in the day, networks would
make and air TV movies that
featured stars from the most popular
shows of the day... this was always
my favorite, mostly because of
the Nancy McKeon angle.
In junior high, I had a group of friends that I wrote about--specifically, I wrote them into stories, usually based on a movie I had seen recently... using my buddies Daniel, Clay, Greg, Jason, Monty and sometimes Chad, Michael & Johnny, through the glory of "Borrowed Fiction", we had a Goonies type adventure, a Commando mission where we rescued Monty from a bad guy (and I flew a plane!), a cruise caper and my favorite, a summer camp story with some elements (re: a heavy majority) borrowed from the movie "Poison Ivy".  No, not that one, I mean this one.  In that one, Daniel made out with a chick, Clay and Monty got into a karate battle with a bully, some chick named Lisa kissed me on the cheek and Greg met Millicent, and they ate cake.  I'm not making any of this up--this is directly from my memory.  Promise. 

And then, one night in 1990, I was spending the night at the aforementioned Greg's house.  He had a computer in his room, with this black screen and orange letters, which was all well and good--he also had this new thing called "Prodigy", which allowed me to get on this "on the line" thing through the telephone... but more impressive to me was the ability to type--not handwrite--things. 

SIDEBAR:  I had learned to type for the most part using the electric typewriter my parents had given me for my birthday some years before... I would end up taking typing classes in Mrs. Rials class a year or two later, but for now, it was a slower type and even some finger pecking.

Late in the evening, maybe 11p, or midnight, Greg was long asleep, and I sat down at his computer.  With the orange cursor blinking, I typed the words, "Dayton's Quest". 

I titled it "Dayton's Quest" before I even had a story, though like some writers, I knew what the story was before I typed a single letter. Heck, I had an ending, and even most of a middle, I just had to start and get the reader there.

So for the next three hours, I told the story of a villager named Dayton Petrydish, and his adventures with his best friend Flessa, as they attempted to rescue the fair Princess from the evil clutches of a bad guy who's name escapes me--and somewhere along the way, there was a wizard named Vernjox, a special sword and a wedding at the end where Vernjox turned into a condor and flew away.

It was hokey, and silly and cheesy.  And when I realized about 4am that I had no way of taking this story home, because he didn't have a printer... like a plunger, I didn't realize I needed it until I needed it.  I fell asleep exhausted, and when Greg and I awoke the next morning, he agreed to let me come back the next week so I could write the story down. And that's what I did the next weekend, over the course of 2 hours on a Saturday, I transcribed the story from the screen to 24 pieces of regular lined loose leaf paper.

"Dayton's Quest" was important, because it was my first real, true piece of fiction, fiction that didn't involve anyone I knew, fiction that required me to discuss the characters, describe them, build them for the reader...  this wasn't like writing little one and two page stories in 5th grade using vocabulary words, this was a real short story.  It helped me understand, even if I didn't realize it then, that I had a knack for it. 

A year or two later, in December of '92, I believe, Mrs. Daniels asked us to set a goal for the new year.   Some people wrote down "Lose 10 pounds" and someone else wrote "Save up for (whatever they were saving for)" and another jotted down, "Learn guitar".  I was hoping that Julie Wise would write down "Go out with d$" because that would have been the easiest A she'd ever earned, but alas.  For me, I wrote down my goal to say "Write a 150 page story". 

Turns out, Mrs. Daniels took these very seriously, and gave us three weeks to finish the assignment.  After much protest by everyone in the class--especially those who wrote down unrealistic goals of learning to tap dance or hiking some mountainous trail--we were told we had to show the effort.  So, I took "Dayton's Quest" from 24 pages to 138 pages.  

The battle scenes got a little longer, the climax was a little longer and more tense, the romantic build up between the Princess CannotRememberHerName and Dayton was a little sweeter, I think I threw in a subplot with best friend Flessa and more... I was still 12 pages short, so I then tacked on another short story, "The Long and Winding Road" (more on that one later) to the end of it, making it a total of 152 pages long... and I got an A.  Woot. 

So there's the first part of my writing story.  The second part will be here in a few days, so I hope you come back to see me again... and let me know--are you a writer?  And how did you get started?